


From across a sea

by GinAndCats



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Art, Cute, High School, M/M, Multi, Music, more relationships later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-18
Updated: 2014-08-08
Packaged: 2018-02-05 03:31:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1803685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GinAndCats/pseuds/GinAndCats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marco Bodt is a sixteen year old boy who has just left his country for the first time. He got a scholarship for music to Trost boarding school. There he meets Jean Kirstein, a boy who would change his life forever. Along with Jean he gains many new friends, while not letting go of the old ones. He learns how to live life with his new friends, that everything isn't just about the end result. </p>
<p>Come with Marco on a journey of love, self-discovery, and countless parties and drunken antics.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I don't have any weed

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't help but think that Eren knocking on Marco's door and asking for weed was the funniest shit ever.
> 
> Here is the first chapter of the fic it inspired.

In a word Marco was excited. It was his first time leaving the country, and even though he’d be leaving his family behind for a while, he couldn’t help but feel the adrenaline rush. He was transferring to Trost Boarding school all the way from Sina, a whole sea away. He had gotten in on a music diploma, when he had applied for it he didn’t think he had a chance in hell at getting it but by some stroke of luck, he did.

Marco started playing the viola when he was seven; he had seen old pictures of his grandfather playing it and was instantly enamored. He’d always ask his parents to play videos and CDs for him of the viola, and bit by bit he fell in love with the rich, slightly deep tone. That year his parents got him his first viola for Christmas, he started playing it right away and hasn’t put it down since.

He was horrible at the viola at first; it was all screechy and didn’t sound anything like what the videos had sounded like. But nothing stopped him; he kept at it until he finally got some proper teaching. Throughout the years he’s progressed a lot, he’s even played in a national level high school orchestra, first chair. 

He was proud of what he’d accomplished, but ever since he got accepted into Trost he’s felt like this was all a dream. Marco shakes off the memories and gets back to unpacking his things. And by get back to he means start.

Each student at Trost got their own bedroom connected to a common room. There were usually six bedrooms to a common room, and five common rooms to a dorm. Each common room had one bathroom attached, with only one sink and two showers. Though it didn’t seem like the best deal, Marco remained optimistic about his new school. 

Marco’s bedroom was currently covered in card board boxes. He had slacked off the whole day, exploring the campus, thinking that he’d have time to unpack later. But now t was nearing midnight and the stack of boxes looked more like a mountain. 

He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. He decided to start with clothes, since that was probably the thing that he was going to need soonest. He had read up about the weather patterns in Trost before coming. It’s a bit colder here than in Sina, so he made sure to pack extra layers for the winter. He could never tolerate the cold that much anyway. He stacked the sweaters and jackets in the bottom drawer of the dresser; it was only early September so he wouldn’t need them for a while. The clothes he would be using more frequently he stacked in the higher drawers. He made sure to fold everything neatly, it’s not so much that he cares excessively about cleaning, but his mother would always fold them like that, and it was more organized that way. 

After putting away the clothes he moves to setting up the bed. The bed in his room was situated right near a window, and his room is on the first floor. He worries for a second about people trying to sneak in, but quickly calms himself. There’s no way that’d happen. He rubs his hands together and prepares to try and take on a fitted sheet all by himself.

After twenty minutes of grunting and uncomfortable positions the fitted sheet is finally on. He lays his dark green comforter on top of it and throws some pillows on the bed. He then falls face first into the new pile of pillows. He lets out a muffled groan into the sheets; he has no idea when of how he’s going to unpack all of his stuff. He’s never moved so he’s never had to deal with this amount of hefting and putting away. He rolls over and stares at the ceiling. It’s an ugly, stark white. He has the impulse to at least change it to a pale yellow or in the very least an off-white. 

Just as he begins to think of what colors he’d rather the ceiling be, he hears a knock on his door. He suddenly sits up; a bit more awake than he was a moment ago. Who could it be? He’s already signed in at the main office and met with his teachers and dorm advisor. He hadn’t talked to anyone else today. He gets up, feeling only a little uneasy. They probably got the wrong door. He hears the knock again, this time a little bit harsher. He stands up and stumbles towards the door, trying his hardest not to trip over the multitude of boxes. “Coming!” he yells.

He yanks the door open and is considerably confused. Three boys who look about his age stare back at him, each with a unique expression. There was the shortest; a bony, buzz cut kid with a grin that was way too wide for this time of night. An extremely angry looking boy with the most intense, but frightening looking green eyes he’d ever seen. And lastly, the tallest of the bunch, a two toned haired one with an eyebrow piercing. The last one didn’t seem to be looking at him more as it seemed he was looking through him. As he was about to stammer a hello the angry one spoke.

“We heard you got weed.” It was more of a statement than an accusation. Marco blinked and nodded his head for a second, trying to put together this guy’s expression and words. He spoke slowly, as not to cause any more anger or anything

“I don’t have any weed.” The angry one clucked his tongue. Buzz Cut frowned and smacked the angry one in the back of his head. 

“I told you Ymir was lying when she said the new guy had weed!” The angry one instantly turns to his friend

“Well it was worth a shot wasn’t it?!” Buzz cut crosses his arm and shakes his head

“You dragged me all the way out of bed for this!?” The two kept bickering, not showing any indication that they were going to more from his doorway anytime soon. He thought it’d be impolite to close the door on them so he just stood there, watching their dispute like a tennis match. 

The taller one seemed fed up with them after about sixty seconds. He slapped both of their heads

“Will you just shut up already, there’s no weed and you’re making a fool of yourselves in front of the new guy!” He scowled and turned to Marco. “I’m Jean and these two idiots are Eren and Connie.” Buzz Cut seemed to have already recovered from the bad news and pipes in

“I’m Connie!” He sticks his hand out, “Welcome to Trost, Newbie!” Marco shakes his hand, he has a surprisingly strong grip and Marco has to resist the urge to baby his hand once he gets it back. The taller one, Jean, also shakes his hand. He can’t help but notice how cold his hands are. Eren all but grabs his hand and violently shakes it. He huffs and announces

“I’m going to go find Mikasa” He waves once, “Bye Newbie.” He promptly walks off. 

Marco runs his hand through his hair and nervously laughed, “Uh, I’m Marco and I don’t really do drugs... or anything.” Jean rolls his eyes and Marco could swear that he saw a smile for a spilt second.

“Neither do we,” Connie started to protest this but Jean quickly shut him down, “You guys smoked like twice over the summer, get over yourselves.” 

“Three times…” Connie grumbled. Marco just kind of stood there with a stupid expression on his face, not entirely sure if there was anything to be said. He quickly scanned the faces of the two boys in front of him, trying to pick up clues of the mood. Connie looked a bit distracted, but Jean, he was looking straight at Marco. He let himself inspect his face for a moment, and he found that he was hot. He had prominent cheek bones and jawline. And despite looking fairly pissed off, he didn’t really come off as harsh. While checking out his eyes (which happened to be an interesting light brown) he made eye contact. Both boys quickly looked away, a blush starting to spread on Marco’s cheeks.

“Do you, want to come in?” He finally asked. Connie nods enthusiastically and soon he’s holding the door open for both of them. Connie starts looking through the nearest box and Jean quickly makes himself at home on Marco’s bed. Marco stand’s by the desk in the room, suddenly embarrassed about his laziness in unpacking. He carefully makes his way through the mine field of boxes and sits on the opposite side of the bed with Jean. He grabs a pillow and hugs it. 

It’s not like he doesn’t like the company or anything, but this is really sudden. Marco didn’t really have many friends back home. Well, everyone liked him but the only one he’d say actually cared for him was his best friend Sasha. That’s another thing about coming here; he was going to miss Sasha, though they did promise to email and text every day. 

He’s brought back from his thoughts of Sasha by a loud yawn from Jean. Marco glances over at him and see’s that he’s adjusted his position so that he’s practically lying down. His eyes flick up to Marco

“So, Marco was it?” his voice was deep, and a bit gruff sounding, but that’s probably from sleep deprivation or something. Marco fiddles with his thumbs, almost angry for noticing his voice.

“Yeah, and you’re Jean?” he already knew he was Jean; he was rather good with remembering names and dates and such. This was something most people were surprised by, since he was helpless at directions and remembering where he left things. Jean gave a slight nod and swallowed, 

“Haven’t unpacked yet?” The home warming equivalent of ‘how’s the weather?’ Marco looks around the room, feeling a bit trapped, he was never one for small talk. He shouldn’t have invited them in in the first place. But it would be impolite not to answer,

“Yeah, I was going to do it earlier but got distracted, I guess I’ve got my night cut out for me…” he laughs lightly, though spending the early hours of the morning unloading boxes was nothing to laugh at. 

“Don’t worry about it.” He heard Jean say, he turns to look at him, but Jean is now staring off at Connie, who conveniently had found Marco’s DS and seemed to be playing a game. 

“Huh?” He wasn’t sure what he meant by that. Was that some sort of strange advice? If so he was being vaguer than the bottom of a yogurt lid. 

“I’ll get my friends together tomorrow morning and we’ll help you unpack. Right Connie? We’re going to help him unpack.” He raises his voice for the last part so his game playing friend would hear him. Connie thrusts a fist in the air and shouts and enthusiastic ‘yes’. Marco is speechless for a second; he barely knows them and their already offering help. Is everyone at Trost this nice?

“Oh, you don’t have to do that-“ Jean waves a hand and offers Marco a small smile. He rubs his neck, feeling his skin grow hotter. 

“Relax, tomorrow is the day before classes start anyway, it’s not like we had anything planned.” Marco nods, of course he doesn’t have anything planned for tomorrow either, but for an entirely different reason. He was a bit wary of who these friends of his might be, coming from the guys that asked if he had weed. Well, so far Connie and Jean don’t seem too bad, but Eren hadn’t exactly made a warm impression on him. 

“Alright, thanks.” He grins at Jean, now feeling a bit relieved that he doesn’t have to unpack all on his own. He watches Connie absently for a few moments. Fairly impressed at how passionately he seemed to be pressing the buttons. Marco wasn’t aware that the DS could be played as expressively as that. 

“Where are you from?” Marco must’ve made a confused face because Jean explained further, “I mean, I’ve lived here forever, so I already know all the people here. But you’re new. Also, you’ve got a bit of an accent.” His hand went instantly to his mouth, as if an accent was something that could be felt. In all honesty he’d say that the rest of them were the ones with accents, but that’s how it works, he supposed. 

“I’m from Sina.” Jean raised his pierced eyebrows, looking impressed

“You crossed an entire sea to bunk up here? What made you decide?” Jean’s tone had changed entirely. From ‘sexy and pissed off’ to ‘interested child’ in the span of a single question. Marco thought it was incredibly cute and couldn’t repress a smile. He looked up to the ceiling, trying to come up with the right words.

“Well, I got a scholarship here, for music. And I hadn’t ever left my country. But once I got the notice, I just felt like it was the right thing to do, you know? Like it was my time to branch out. I had spent so much time just studying in my hometown that I thought it’d be good to actually experience the world…” He trailed off and rubbed the back of his neck, He’d better not go too far into it. Jean’s probably not interested anyway. But when he took a glance at Jean, he looked totally into what Marco was saying. Connie had evidentially been listening to

“Jean’s an artist too! Well he uses paints and shit.” Connie wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, “You should ask him to show you some of his ‘special’ pictures-“ Jean stands up and crossly yells

“Connie!” His look of interest was now replaced with a mask of embarrassment. Marco felt something shift in him; he hadn’t realized exactly how much he liked being the center of attention until he wasn’t anymore. Jean stalks across the room, careful not to knock anything down and grabs the back of Connie’s hoodie. “Don’t we have somewhere to be?!” 

Jean pushes Connie out the door and looks like he’s going to slam the door for a second, but he hesitates. He turns around and smiles at him, despite his face being a rather rich shade of red. “Sleep tight, Marco. See you tomorrow.” 

Marco manages to squeak out a ‘good night’ before the door was finally closed. He flopped down on his bed, feeling somehow more and less excited than he was before he met these other students. He found himself liking Jean the best, which is strange considering that his best friend is pretty much the polar opposite of him.  
He shakes his head, he’s probably just tired. He crawls into bed after shutting the lights off. He doesn’t usually like going to sleep with a messy room, but it’d be rude to work on it before the others came. He fell asleep thinking about how many new friends he’d make at this school.


	2. I like my coffee black

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco's room gets rearranged, he shows off his skills, and has a heart-to-heart with Krista.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for continuing reading!
> 
> anyway I really like Ymir and Krista (they come in the later half of this chapter) so I'm hoping I can incorporate them more into the story as it goes on :)

In his opinion Marco was woken up too early the next day. The loud and harsh knocking of several hands on his door was what did it. He let out a soft groan and slowly sat up. He rubbed his eyes and considered telling whoever it was knocking to come back later. Oh yeah, he remembered, the boys he met yesterday were going to help him unpack. Just as his feet hit the floor as he was getting out of bed the door opened. 

“Wow, you should really lock your door Marco!” Said Connie in a voice all too loud for the morning. After him more and more people spilled into his room. He blinked in surprise and looked for Jean’ face. He was walking towards Marco with two cups of coffee in his hands. 

“Did you enlist an army to unpack my stuff?” Jean shrugged and handed Marco one of the cups. Marco held the cup with both hands and brings it closer to his face. Hot coffee is just what he needs right now. Jean sits down on his bed and takes a sip from his cup.

“No, I just told a couple people to come down and these are the people who showed up. “ he takes a breath and starts pointing out the different people in his room, “That’s Ymir and that’s Krista, they’re dating. Over there is Reiner, Bertholdt, and Annie- the ‘evil’ trio.” He used air quotes, “And there’s Eren, Mikasa, and Armin- the ‘good’ trio” more air quotes. Marco tried his best to follow where Jean was pointing, but his directions were all quite general. Marco had to approximate whose name night be whose. 

“Wow.” Marco counted on his fingers how many people there were, five minutes after waking up is no time for mental math. “Including you and me, there are ten people in here.” Jean took another sip of coffee

“Yep. Anyway, I didn’t know how you liked your coffee so I just put some milk and sugar into it.” Jean had only brought two cups of coffee; none of his actual friends had any coffee. Marco was all of a sudden taken aback by how nice that was. He felt something turn in him as he enjoyed the thought of being thought of. Marco raises his cup and takes a sip, he actually likes his coffee black.

“It’s great, thank you.” It wasn’t great, it was too sweet, but then again, so was Jean for bringing this to him. Marco stretches over and puts his cup on the bed side table. He then flings the covers off of himself and stands up. He notices that the people in his room were already laughing and taking the stuff from the boxes and putting them in reasonable places. “Should we get working?” he asked Jean

“Sure.” For the first ten minutes or so everything went great, everyone introduced themselves to Marco and they all seemed more or less nice. He got decorating advice from Krista, and compliments on his books from Armin. Mikasa apologized for what Eren did last night, and Eren himself was a lot more agreeable after getting sleep. The ‘evil’ trio proved to be incredibly useful when it came to heavy or high up items. In fact, Marco was having the time of his life until they found his viola.

“Do you play the violin?” asked an excited Armin, those within earshot instantly wanted to know the answer as well. He rubbed the back of his neck

“It’s a viola, and yeah, I play…” Jean walks up and looks at the case, then at Marco, an inquisitive look on his face. 

“Is this what you got the music scholarship for?” Armin and Krista exchanged an excited look and Mikasa asked

“A music scholarship?” Marco nodded. At that point most of the people in the room were crowding around Marco and his viola. Someone slapped him hard on the back,

“Well you’ve got to play for us now! Right Annie?” A small yeah was heard. Marco’s face had begun to redden, though he was used to this degree of praise for his music, it felt a bit different with all of these new prospective friends. Everyone was egging him on now; it was hard not to give into the pressure. His eyes almost instinctively slid to Jean’s, and when they met Jean grinned and seemed to nod slightly. Marco gulped and smiled back.

“Alright, alright.” He was met with a small eruption of cheers. As he took his viola out of its case and rosined up the bow it was quiet. But not a comfortable kind of quiet, it was tense, and full of expectations that may or may not be met. He slung his arms around and got into playing position, it was a fluid movement mostly due to the intense muscle memory one gets form doing an action every day. He took a deep breath and started to play.

He played one of his favorite parts in the Penderecki Cadenza. It wasn’t what he would call a beautiful piece, but it definitely was capable of evoking emotion. In a sense Marco supposed that he played viola the way Connie had played with his DS. He played with his whole body, arching back and forward with each stroke of his bow and timing his breathing with the beat. Whenever he isn’t playing with sheet music he plays with his eyes closed because when he is playing there is nothing else but the music. He was brought back to when he was first learning this piece, how complicated he found the rhythm and shifts, but now he could play it seamlessly, his fingers pounding out vibrato on even the shortest notes. He decides to stop playing at the end of this phrase. 

“Holy shit Marco.” He heard. He opened his eyes, detaching himself from the music, a little breathless. He lifts his eyes and looks to see their reactions. Faces of awe surround him, he looks down and blushes, certainly that little part wasn’t that good. For a few seconds it’s quiet again, but a better kind of quiet, the kind filled with amazement instead of stress. After the brief silence he’s showered in compliments and more harsh pats on the back.

“You and Professor Ral should play a concert together.” Mikasa said, brushing a strand of her dark hair behind her ear. Marco wondered what instrument she played, but didn’t have to wonder for long.

“Yeah, cello and viola would sound nice together, I think at least…” Connie finished the statement with an unapologetic grin. Marco didn’t bother explaining why cello ad viola really did go very well together, given that they are the two instruments that both have C strings. He didn’t think they’d be very interested in that.

“You’re a real natural at that.” Eren smiled in an affirming manner, as did Bertholdt. Marco clutched at the neck of his viola, gently pressing the strings against the finger board, careful not to make a sound. The feel of the metal strings calmed him somewhat, at least enough to endure a group of nine near strangers total attention. 

“It’s just a lot of practice.” He mumbled. He wished that he could’ve said that louder, but he has this habit of being overly modest, especially when it comes to his music. He looked down again, but held a smile.

“We should get back to unpacking, right guys?” Jean said asserted, with only a little bit of a glare. The group agreed with only a one comment on Jean being a ‘party pooper’. With that they diffused and went back to hanging posters on walls, or organizing his games and books in some sort of system. He was fairly sure that for the first week he’d have trouble finding things because he didn’t put it away himself, but everyone was being s nice that he didn’t want to police anybody. 

He strapped the viola back into the case and tucked it right into the gap between the bed and the nightstand, he liked to keep it close to him. Jean followed him over

“You really were amazing.” The words were a bit stammered, but nonetheless sounded true. Marco says thanks without meeting his eyes. This comment resonated deeper within Marco than the shouted ones. Jean leans a little closer to Marco, close enough that he could smell him. All he could focus on was the faint scent of grass and generic shampoo, but he did manage to make out what Jean was saying, “And if any of those nerds over there ever make you feel uncomfortable, feel free to tell ‘em to piss off”

“Thanks.” Was the only word that he could stammer back. It wasn’t like he was exceptionally uncomfortable with them, but he was a little nervous. Jean was the amazing one for being able to pick up on that. He’s probably just empathetic with everyone, it’s not like Marco is special or anything. 

Within two hours everything is put away and all the cardboard boxes are discarded. Marco took a look around the room. The arrangement of posters and picture and CD racks and book shelves isn’t anywhere close to the way Marco would have done it. But he likes it better this way, now it’s not only his room, but it’s filled with the character and style of people who he was sure he’d make fast friends of. 

“The room looks great guys!” He exclaimed, much to the pleasure of the people who helped make this happen. With the room being done most of the people had to leave to do other things, or see other people. But they didn’t leave before saying bye to Marco and exchanging numbers with him. As they all slowly left only Ymir, Krista, and Jean were left. The taller one, which he was pretty sure was Ymir stretched her arms high above her head. She yawned and her shirt lifted up with the movement, revealing a pair of string hips and abs. He caught Krista checking out her girlfriend’s stomach and she winked at Marco when she realized he was watching. After her yawn she slung her arm around Krista’s shoulders.

“Freckles, Horse-Face,” Jean rolled his eyes at his nick name. Marco found his a bit ironic, given that Ymir had a face full of freckles as well, “We’re heading out to lunch, wanna come?” Marco answered at the same time as Jean, but not with the same word. 

“Yes.””Sure.” were said simultaneously. The two boys looked at each other and lightly laughed. They left the room and went outside, after Marco got dressed of course. 

It was bright; the sun illuminated the courtyard outside of his dorm. Marco tried to hang back because he had no idea where they were headed.

“Can we go to the deli instead of the cafeteria?” Jean asked as he shielded his light eyes from the sun. Ymir threw her head back and allowed her tan skin to soak in the brightness. She mussed up her hair and then aimed her gaze at Jean

“Of course we’re going to the deli, the cafeteria doesn’t open till tomorrow dumb-ass.” She grinned, obviously pleased with herself since Jean seemed to be even more pissy now. 

“How the shit was I supposed to know that?!” Jean yelled at her as she raised her hands in a sad attempt to look offended. Krista slowed her pace down so she could walk next to Marco. After knowing her and Ymir for less than six hours he was surprised by how different they seemed, they must connect on a really personal level. He glanced over at her and found her covering a small smile as she watched her girlfriend and Jean bicker. 

“Is Ymir always like this?” Krista looked up at Marco, given how Marco was a bit on the tall side and she was a bit on the short side. She then looked back at Ymir with a loving expression.

“Yeah, she’s like that with everyone, well except me.” Marco raised an eyebrow and gathered enough courage to venture

“if you don’t mind me asking, I mean, you two seem extremely different, how did you meet?” Krista giggled and pulled her hair back into a ponytail.

“I don’t mind at all, I’ve gotten much worse questions about our relationship than that.” Her voice had a bitter undertone, but it quickly cheered up. “We met when I was a freshman here, we both do field hockey so we were on the same team. We started hanging out more and more, and well, now we’re like this. Though she’s a senior now, I’m not sure what I’m going to do without her…”

“Yeah, I know how that feels.” While Marco knew that these past two days have gone over fine without Sasha he still wasn’t sure how’d he last an entire school year without her. 

“Oh, did you have a girlfriend back home?” now it was Marco’s turn to laugh, the idea of him having a girlfriend was just kinda funny for him.

“No, I was thinking about my best friend, but I wouldn’t mind getting a boyfriend.” He was surprised by how easy it was to tell her that, back home it wasn’t exactly a secret but there wasn’t anyone to vent to about it. He didn’t come from a homophobic town or anything, but growing up no one explained to him that boys could like boys. 

“Boyfriend? Are you gay?” she asked, as if it were as natural as asking his favorite color. 

“Well, I definitely like boys, but what if I like a girl one day? I kinda think labels are too restricting.” Krista nodded in understanding, but her face looked a bit jaded. Did he say something wrong? “Are you alright?”

“Huh?” she shook off the tired look from her face, “Yeah, it’s just I like having a label other than ‘broken’ or ‘diseased’.” She clapped her hands together and smiled brightly, “But not isn’t the time for that talk, maybe once we get to be better friends we can swap stories!” 

“I’d like that.” He was very interested now, what kind of environment did she grow up in? How can she still look so happy all the time with those awful memories? Marco decides then and there that he was going to make this girl his friend. “We could make a club” she smiles at this and holds out her pinky

“Pinky promise?” She quirks a brow and bites her lip. Marco grins back and locks his smallest finger with hers.

“Promise.” Her hand is soft and warm and her nails are painted a pastel green. He looks back to the pair in front of them and they aren’t fighting anymore. Jean is walking backwards and scowling, 

“What are you two conspiring back there?” before Marco can answer Krista shouts out to him

“Nothing important” and winks at Marco. “Let’s keep this club to just the two of us, alright?” she whispers. Marco grins and nods again, happy to have made what seems like a lasting friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you again!


	3. blushing at it's best

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few awkward conversations at the deli

The deli is about a ten minute walk from Marco’s dorm. It was a nice, homey feeling place, complete with puns on their menu. They served things such as ‘I love you-gurt’, ‘On Par-fait’, and ‘Cheese Borgia’. Jean quickly informed him that this was a family owned deli. He seemed embarrassed by the menu, which only made Marco laugh, causing Jean to develop a small blush. 

They took a booth by the windows, Ymir and Krista on one side, Jean and Marco on the other. The tables were made of some dark type of wood, and they had the same shine his viola had. 

“I’ll go up and order, so what does everyone want?” Ymir stands and leans against the back of the booth. Jean orders a custom omelet, Krista goes with a pastry. Marco, who isn’t the best at making snap decisions, just orders the first thing on the menu, which happens to be a bagel. 

“So, what kinds of things happen around here?” Marco tentatively asks, trying to spark conversation. He already feels a little awkward being in such close quarters with them, it’d be even worse if everyone were silent. He turns to Jean to see if he would answer first, but he was just absent mindedly ripping apart the cover to a straw. Luckily, Krista is glad to fill Marco in.

“Well, there’re loads of clubs and sports teams that do competitions, and as a school we’re pretty good all around, so there’s always something to celebrate. But as for general things that happen, there’s parties, the occasional parade, speeches….and, oh! The Homecoming crowning! It’s in three weeks or so!” Homecoming had never been that big of a deal back home, nothing compared to prom. The homecoming crowns were given at the start of the year pep rally, which was usually two weeks into the school year. There wasn’t a lot of campaigning, so there wasn’t a lot of glory in winning. 

“Homecoming?” He says, hoping to get more information. Krista nods enthusiastically.

“Yeah! Now that I think about it, people should start campaigning soon. Though you can only campaign if you’re a senior. But that just means that Ymir could try. Though I’d be jealous of the king.” She laughs a little, obviously very excited about this. Her mood instantly rubs off on Marco and he grins, maybe even wider than Krista had. When he turns to Jean, who raises an appraising eyebrow, he tries to calm himself down. 

“I just don’t see what the big deal is. Some people win a popularity contest and get over glorified crowns then everyone goes to a stupid school sanctioned party.” Jean mutters, leaning his head on his hand. Krista sticks her tongue out at him.

“You’re just bitter because Mikasa wouldn’t go with you last year.” Mikasa was one of the girls that had helped unpack Marco’s room. He wonders if they had dated or if Jean had a crush on her. He finds himself hoping that neither is true.

“I am not bitter!” Jean bitterly hits the table with his hand, with a bitter expression on his face. Marco suppresses a smile and turns back to Krista

“I thought you said Homecoming was only for seniors.” More of a question than a statement, but its message carried all the same.

“No, well, yes. Only seniors can be crowned king or queen, but the whole school goes to Homecoming dance.” She points her finger at Jean, “And despite what he says, the party is actually very fun, but I will admit that the after parties are better.” Marco was never much of a partier back home, apart from stealing from his parent’s liquor cabinet with Sasha and getting drunk under the stars. But now with his new friends he’ll probably get invited to loads of parties.

“It sounds really fun.” Krista nods in agreement, but Jean claps a hand on Marco’s shoulder.

“Trust me man, it’s horrible.” He sternly says. Marco looks between Krista and Jean, not sure exactly who he should be siding with or what the right thing to say is. 

“Marco, don’t listen to him. Anyway, I’ll help you both get dates so it’s not a problem.” She gave a salute, officially signing herself to the matchmaking committee. Jean’s hand lingers on his shoulder for a moment longer before he takes it back. Somehow that part of his body feels ten degrees cooler now. He instantly misses the small bit of warmth.

Quietly a short dark haired man slides into the booth where Ymir was sitting. This movement made Marco jump and look to his friends for assurance, but they didn’t seem concerned at all. 

“Hey Levi.” Jean says tiredly, back to playing with straws. Marco took a closer look at the man; he was, definitely, a man. He looked to be about thirty and had the slitted eyes of a predator. He took a sip of coffee and sized up Marco, who squirmed in his seat. Jean notices how uncomfortable Marco is and speaks up.

“Knock it off.” He says to Levi, and then turns to Marco, moving his head to speak directly into his ear. “Don’t worry, he’s just the physical education teacher, he coaches all of our best teams.” His breath is hot on Marco’s neck, making his heart skip a beat. He draws back a bit and Marco’s body instinctively follows for a moment. Jean takes a look at Marco’s face to judge if he needs to elaborate. Marco had no idea what his face looked like in that moment, but it sure felt like it was a dumb expression since Jean talked more. “Officially he’s Mr. Ackerman, same last name as Mikasa, but as far as I know no relation. But he prefers just to be called Levi.”

“Oh.” Jean pulls away again as he says his last sentence, Marco watches his mouth as it forms the words, wishing that he could watch him as he says his name. He shakes off any lasting thoughts of Jean breath or mouth and takes another look at Levi. He slowly extends his hand over the table; he didn’t remember seeing him at orientation, so it was best to get off on the right foot now. He smiled his brightest and introduced him, “Hello Sir, I’m Marco Bodt. I’m new here.”

“Levi.” His voice was a lot more thuggish than his exterior looked. When he shook his hand it was firm and dry. His hands were strong and heavily calloused. 

“How was your summer Levi?” Krista asks politely. Levi takes another sip off coffee and rolls his shoulders. He made every movement look intimidating, even when he was just placing his mug on the table. 

“It was fan-fucking-tastic. I got hella laid.” He says with a completely straight face. Marco could feel his jaw physically drop, a problem he quickly fixed. He’d never heard a teacher talk so crassly, especially in front of students. But Jean and Krista just casually laughed it off. This time Jean didn’t turn to explain the man’s actions to Marco, which he felt was entirely intentional. 

Jean and Krista turned to probing for details, and while Levi was incredibly tactless, he did seem to know when not to cross a line. Throughout their conversation Marco sat quietly, but did laugh along with them. Jean kept changing his position, and on closer inspection he did seem to look a bit restless. Every other position his leg was right up against Marco’s. It was always felt like a little part of him was leaving every time he lost contact with Jean. 

“Levi!” Someone angrily yells. And that somebody is Eren; he stomps up to their table and crosses his arms. “You said we’d meet at the other entrance!” Krista leans on the table to get a clear look at Eren

“You two were meeting up?” Eren gets momentarily flustered and can’t seem to get the right words to come out. His face was an equal mix of anger and blush. 

“No! I mean, yeas- but no. Um- I’m doing football this year and I needed to talk to Coach Ackerman!” Levi sighs heavily as his eyebrow twitches. He stands up slowly he faces Eren for a moment and then hits his forehead with the heel of his hand. 

“Brat.” He starts walking away, but looks back for a moment, “Come on Eren. And bye Marco Bodt.” With that he swiftly walked away, followed be an even angrier Eren nursing a bruised head. 

“Um, are all the teachers secretly like that?” Krista smiles assuringly.

“No, it’s only him.” With that Marco let out a sigh of relief. He wasn’t sure that he’d be able to stand every teacher being like that. 

“Give me a hand.” Marco turns and sees Ymir walking back with a large tray. Jean gets up and helps her give the right plates to the right people. Ymir sits and pushes her hair back with her hand. 

“That line was too long.” She opens her eyes and stares for a second at the still steaming cup of coffee. She picks it up with extended fingers, “Whose is this?” 

“Levi’s.” Marco blurts. Ymir lifts her lidded eyes to look at him. She mutters something that sounds suspiciously like ‘jackass’ and sets the mug back on the table, she then pushes it far away from her, which means it just ends up on Jean’s side of the table. Jean, apparently having the mind of a third grader pushes the mug back towards Ymir. Marco had expected it to stop there, but she just pushed it back. They went back and forth like this for about ten pushes, each time getting more aggressive. Marco quickly nabs the mug before it got spilled. 

“Jean.” He scolded mildly. He looked pissed for a second that Marco had taken away the cup, but that expression is soon replaced with a slight blush and a muttered ‘sorry’. Krista makes eye contact with Marco right after this and raises her brows with a smirk. Marco instantly goes red and has to turn his face away. 

After that all actions, including conversation were suspending for them to eat. Marco spreads cream cheese on his bagel and bites into it happy to eat something, but quickly notices that not everyone is eating. Ymir only has a glass of iced tea in front of her, which she stirs with the straw. Krista gives her a very concerned look 

“I’m not hungry.” She says, barely over a whisper, when Krista doesn’t stop her staring she huffs and tugs her head close so she can place a kiss on her forehead, “I’m fine.” Krista turns back to her food, which she insists that Ymir has a bite of. Marco feels like he’s intruding on something that he shouldn’t have seen and decides to check up on Jean.

Jean devours his breakfast, stuffing more food into his mouth before he done chewing the current mouthful. Something about the way his eyes shine as he eats make Marco’s heart flutter. They have their breakfast in silent for a few minutes before Krista brings Homecoming up again.

“You should run Ymir! You’d be a great queen.” Krista tugs on her girlfriends arm and she looks completely recovered for their conversation before. 

“Well I’m getting laid either way, so what’s the point?” She grins evilly. Marco expects Krista to blush and look away or reprimand Ymir, but she does nothing of the sort.

“Hell yeah.” They both laugh at the looks on Jean and Marco’s faces. He had no idea that such an innocent looking girl could be a pervert. Ymir takes a long drag of her drink and locks eyes with Marco.

“What about you Freckles? You have any big plans for Homecoming?” Marco is shocked into silence for an instant. He drops his bagel back onto the plate and starts fidgeting with his hands, looking back and forth between his lap and his friends. 

“No, I’m not planning anything or anything like that.” He speaks hurriedly; though he is comfortable with his sexuality he isn’t sure of the ‘experience’ of his new friends, and whether he’d be teased for his lack thereof. Ymir just cocks a brow,

“You mean you’ve never…?” Marco clenches and unclenches his fists and decides that it’s best not to lie. He shakes his head, not making eye contact with anyone. He can hear Ymir let out a laugh and he can feel the red on his face stretching all the way back to his ears. “Have you ever even kissed anyone?” 

“Shut up.” Jean nearly growls as he throws a piece of his food at her. “Leave him alone, whether or not he’s done…’that’, well you know doesn’t matter!” Marco looks at Jean in surprise; he hadn’t expected him to stand up for him like that. He notices that Jean is also uncomfortable with this subject. His whole body seems to relax and he has to fight the intense urge to grab Jean’s hand. Ymir just brushes off her shirt and bites her lip, slinging her arm around Krista. 

“He’s right, you know.” Ymir fakes being offended,

“Well, you know that comment is invalid, coming from Extra Virgin Olive Oil over here-“ Jean stabs at his omelet with his fork. Marco feels Jean tense up beside him. 

“I’m not a virgin.” He states confidently, which accomplishes nothing but causes Ymir to laugh wholesomely, though there was nothing particularly wholesome about this conversation. He looks back up to her, his face contorted with emotion. “It’s true! I met a girl at summer camp and she was really hot and-“ Ymir had not stopped laughing. Krista attempts to quiet her as well as shoot Marco and Jean the most apologetic glances she can muster. Jean shovels the last bits of his food into his mouth and then stands. He throws down a ten dollar bill on the table.

“Jean, where are you going?” Marco asks, a little bit amused by how agitated Jean had gotten. He stuffs his hands in his pockets and scowls at Ymir, 

“Come on Marco, we don’t need to be treated like this.” Such a dramatic sentence caused Ymir to snort. Marco was conflicted for a second, should he stay and eat with Krista and Ymir, or should he go off with Jean, the option that feels right. Krista senses Marco’s hesitation and touches his hand, a brief but comforting contact. 

“See you later Marco.” He smiles at Krista for giving him a free pass to leave.

“Bye Freckles.” Ymir gives him a half wave and hugs Krista closer to her side. Marco fumbles to get out his wallet but Jean grabs his wrist. 

“The money I put down will cover both out meals.” He doesn’t look Marco in the face when he says this. Before Marco could thank him he starts dragging him away. He looks back once more to wave to his friends. Krista winks and gives him a thumbs up. Feeling confident he wriggles his wrist out of Jeans grip and adjusted it so that they were holding hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading, I really hope you enjoyed!! <3


	4. Will you trust me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean takes Marco to someplace special to him and they have a heart-to-heart. <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry i haven't updated in a while /-_-

Marco hadn’t noticed how dimly lit the café had been until he was pulled back into the daylight. He wasn’t given any time to adjust to the brightness though, seeing as Jean was still dragging him along. He walked with a purpose; he took long bold strides in short intervals, walking at the pace that one would jog. Marco isn’t athletic at all, but he does his best to keep up. 

Although Marco wasn’t crazy about the pace at which they were walking, there was one huge upside: Jean was holding his hand. Marco had always been one to appreciate physical affection as much, sometimes even more, than emotional affection. There's just something about the warmth of another person that always evokes a sense of happiness in him. Jeans hand was larger than his, and it was surprisingly soft, but it clutched at Marco’s like a child’s. Marco couldn’t see Jean’s face, since he was dragging him behind him, and he really wanted to know what kind of face he was making. No, it’s not like he’d like that, he’s just curious. He’s enjoying holding hands purely from a warmth standpoint. 

After about a minute of intense treading Jean slows down to a halt. He and Marco stand there, still with their hands intertwined. Jean finally turns around to face Marco and he notices their hands and quickly, maybe even a bit ashamedly, breaks them apart. His cheeks are red and his face is contorted in angry discomfort.

“Sorry…” he mutters, Marco wants to tell him that the hand thing was totally cool with him, but he can’t think of a way to say that without sounding disgustingly desperate. Marco cradles his now empty hand against his chest, trying to draw out the chill that now remains.

He realizes that he wasn’t looking around when Jean was dragging him along, as he examines his surroundings he realizes that he has no idea of where he is. They did take a turn somewhere, and now the café is completely out of sight. They stand near a path into the woods, near some brick buildings that could really be any of the buildings at this school. There isn’t much variation in the architecture. 

After Marco fully confirms that he would not be able to find his way back on his own he turns to Jean again. He looks back with a stare full of hesitant seriousness. Marco is taken aback by this; he’s not used to being looked at that way. Jean clenches his jaw and Marco notices exactly how handsome he is. Not really wanting Jean to see his reaction to that face he glances away, silently cursing the color rising on his face. 

“Can I show you something?” Jean asks, his voice louder than when he had apologized moments before. Marco isn’t sure if Jean knows exactly how sexual that sounds, but he shouldn’t read into the situation too much. Jean takes a few steps back, nearing the forest path, what could he want to show Marco in the forest? 

“Umm, yeah, is it in there?” Marco points to the forest. Jean sees where he’s pointing and smirks

“Yeah, why? Are you afraid of the deep dark woods?” he teases. No, he isn’t afraid of the ‘deep dark woods’. But it’s not exactly every day that someone invites you into them with nothing but a vague question as a precursor. Instead of snarking back he just rolls his eyes and stalks into the forest all by himself, not stopping until he’s a good ten yards in. He then turns and yells back at Jean

“Are you coming?” though he can’t see him clearly he can tell that he’s smiling. He jogs up to Marco and passes by him so he’s standing further down the path.

“Hell yeah I am, you’d get lost by yourself.” He turns and starts walking, making a gesture for him to follow. “let’s go!” Marco walks after him, speed walking a bit in the beginning so he can walk next to Jean. The path is about five or six people wide, and it’s well kept. It must be part of the school. Maybe the cross country team or something uses it for runs. 

The forest is much nice on the inside than on the out. Because it’s only the beginning of September the leaves are still vibrantly green and the occasional bird can be heard more than seen in the tree tops. The town that Marco grew up in was rural enough for every house to come with a yard of respectable size. And in the spring and summer his parents would always plant flowers, fruits, and vegetables. So he ended up practicing outside a lot, he enjoyed the peaceful atmosphere. This forest captured the same feeling as his yard, it was the same but still different. 

Marco smiles at this and he looks over to Jean, but thee playful smirk he had was already gone. He was back to looking mildly distressed. Ymir’s comments must have really gotten to him, although they had made Marco uncomfortable they weren’t something that would make him this angry. Marco thinks about how close Jean’s hand is to his and how easy it would be to just reach out and take it, to reassure him perhaps. But he knows that it’s unlikely that holding his hand would help at all, especially when the urge to do so came from Marco’s own selfish wants. So he left it alone. 

They walked in silence for a bit, Jean would signal where they needed to turn with his hand. Marco isn’t usually uncomfortable with silence, but silence feels extremely different when you know that there's something that should be said. But Marco senses that Jean doesn’t want to talk right now, he’ll open up when he feels ready. 

They stay on the path for a bit longer before Jean sharply turns into the brush. Marco had noticed some ‘stay on the path’ signs scattered around, so instinctively he wasn’t entirely sure of this new development. 

“Is it okay to go off the path?” the second he asks it he feels like such a loser. It isn’t like he’s some goody two shoes when it comes to rules, but the signs must be there for a reason…right? He picks at his nails, wanting to take that lame question back, but he’d probably seem like more of a loser if he did.

“It’s fine, everyone does it.” Instead of being mean about it Jean just gently assures him that it’s okay. Though his phrasing bore an awful semblance to drug pushers from after school specials. Marco decides that it’ll be better just to trust Jean with this, he seems to know where he’s going and all. So he follows him off the path, suddenly hating his choice of shorts this morning. Off the path the woods are full of pricker bushes, the type that lie to you with their flowers.

After Marco had cursed and separated his clothes from the bushes for the tenth time he looks forward to Jean, who seems to have no trouble at all getting through the thick foliage. That or he’s really good with pain. As he was staring at the back of Jean’s head he suddenly turns around. 

“Hey Marco, where we’re going…could you not tell any of the others about it. Not Krista or Connie or Jaeger, and especially not Ymir.” He said it with such a straight face that Marco thought he might be joking. He laughed lightly, but when that just made Jean look pissed he stopped.

“Jean, if this place is so important are you sure you want me to see? I mean, we just met yesterday…” he tries to look as sympathetic as possible. But he doesn’t truly believe in the words he’s saying. He wants to know where Jean is leading him, he wants to know more about him, he wants to be so special to him that he trusts him with secrets. But at the same time he doesn’t want to come off too strong, he knows full well that what he’s feeling has very little to do with Jean and a lot more to do with his desire for affection, Jean doesn’t need to be dragged into his shit. 

But Jean seems to be having none of it, even with the way out that Marco had provided, he doesn’t turn back. “Marco,” he starts, still looking somewhat serious, nut more flustered than anything at this point. “Did you know that within knowing someone for five minutes people instinctively know whether they can trust the other or not? You seem trustworthy, so I’ll bring you there, just promise you won’t tell anyone.”

Marco stands still in surprise for a moment; he hadn’t expected Jean to be that kind of person. With all of his cynical talk about Homecoming who knew that there was a person who believed so strongly in first impressions underneath. But that’s not all, that also means that Jean doesn’t really trust any of his friends. He wonders how many other people Jean would list if Marco were to ask him to. 

He laughs again, causing Jean to look extremely worried for a second. He then smiles at Jean, taking a step towards him. “Thank you Jean, I’ll be sure to trust you too.” Jean’s eyes widen as his face relaxes, but he soon turns around, hiding his expression.

“Idiot, no one said you had to trust me, just forget I said that.” Marco thinks that he might’ve accidentally crossed some line somewhere, but Jean soon tells him that they’re close. He must’ve made Jean blush. Just the thought of that makes his heart race, could he really have that large of an effect on someone? 

Soon they reach an opening in the trees, Jean stops walking there and sticks his hands out to present the area like a game show host.

“Ta-da.” He says rather unenthusiastically. Marco takes the whole sight in. in front of him was a small pond, surrounded by small boulders and water flowers. Lilies bloom on the surface of the water and small shining fish swim underneath the water. Reeds take up most of the left side of the pond, an ecosystem in themselves. Though there wasn’t a lot going on there was definitely beauty in the simplicity. Jean goes and sits on one of the large rocks, he dips his fingers in the water and then splashes a frog that had been resting on a lily pad, causing it to jump into the water and disappear into the mess of roots and flowers. 

Marco sits on a rock fairly close to Jean, but not close enough to touch. He watches Jean pull one leg up to his chest, he watches as he leans his head on top of this knee, and he watches when Jean makes soft ripples in the water, his hands looking as delicate as a nymphs. They sit like that for a while, Jean looking pensively into the water, Marco looking thoughtfully at Jean. The whirr of various insects fills the air, natural white noise. 

Though Marco wants to start a conversation, and though he wants to know why those comments had such an effect on Jean, he’s content just to sit with him at a place that he deemed Marco special enough to share with. 

“I lied before.” Jean says out of nowhere, instead of answering Marco just waits for him to elaborate. “I’m a virgin.” Marco makes his best surprised face; he had already guessed as much, the ‘girl at summer camp’ story was nowhere near believable. 

“I am too.” Jean snorts at this, and Marco tenses. Jean couldn’t possibly be judging him on this right now, that’d make him such a hypocrite. But he soon finds out that Jean’s reaction was self-deprecating. 

“Yeah, but I bet you’ve had girlfriends and have been kissed, or have made out with someone before…heh, I’ve never even been on a proper date.” His voice is so full of self-loathing that Marco instantly just wants to kiss and date this boy, but he holds back. The things he said were true though, he had had his fair share of stolen kisses from whatever gay boys he could find. It also wasn’t uncommon for girls to confess to him, though he always turned them down. He and Sasha had even dated for a while, but neither of them could take it seriously so that ended. He was sure that telling this to Jean would only make him feel worse, so he doesn’t talk at all. 

But somehow Jean gets the message from his silence and he laughs, throwing his head back to look up into the sky. 

“You’re still young, it’s not like you’ll never date anyone!” Marco protests, but Jean just looks at him from the corner of him eye. His expression is painful to look at, but Marco can’t seem to find the words to say. What can you say to someone you barely know? Jean seems like the type of person that a Hallmark expression of sympathy would only make them feel worse. Marco finds himself suddenly, almost violently, wanting to know about Jean. He needs to know, that way he can help when Jean makes these faces, that way he can be important to someone. 

“I’ve never even felt that way.” What? What does he mean by that? Marco shakes his head, not entirely sure what the problem is now. 

“Never felt what way?” he ventures, hoping that this isn’t an area that’s terribly hard for Jean to talk about. 

“Aroused, in love, infatuated. Whatever word makes the most sense to you. I’ve only felt remotely close to that with one person, and she wants nothing to do with me…” he buries his face in his hands. His voiced sounded strained right then, like he was holding back some emotion, the calm he had spoken with was forced. Marco supposes that he must mean Mikasa. But he would’ve never guessed that Jean was like that, he also wouldn’t have thought that he’d hate himself for something like that. Marco wants to reach out, to tell him that it’s perfectly fine to feel that way.

But Jean stands up before he can say anything. He presses his hands into his eyes, his back turned to Marco. 

“Sorry if you think I’m pathetic now, but this is me, fucking stunted, Mr. Cant-Get-it-Up-for-Anyone—“ before Jean spits out his next insult like acid Marco stands. He’s always thought that actions speak louder than words. He hugs Jean from behind, shocking him into silence, he’s glad that Jean can’t see his face right now because to must be on fire. Jean doesn’t move to embrace or reject Marco’s hug, but he isn’t spewing hateful things about himself anymore, and that is paramount. 

“It’s alright Jean. You’re alright.” He feels something wet and warm drop onto his arm and he realizes that Jean was crying. He lets go of Jean, but he doesn’t move back. For a few moments the only thing that can be heard is the whirring of the bugs and Jeans quiet sniffles. 

When Jean had finally calmed down completely he looked Marco in the face. His eyes were red and puffy. Marco gives him his brightest smile,

“See? Everything’s alright now.” Jean tiredly smiles back, still looking good though his face looked sore from crying. He sits back down and pats the spot directly next to him.

“Thanks Marco…would you sit with me for a little bit, I can’t go back looking like this…” Marco’s heart swells with emotion, he decides right there and then that he’ll protect this boy. He goes to sit next to Jean. Their arms touch and their hands sit inches away from each other, but Marco won’t make any moves before Jean does. He feels a weight on his shoulder and he turns to see Jean resting against him, he opens one eye and looks at Marco. “Don’t tell anyone.”

Marco lifts his hand and hovers near Jean’s head for a moment before gaining enough confidence to touch Jean. He strokes Jean’s hair, noting how soft it is, and wipes away the rest of Jean’s tears. 

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” He smiles at Jean relaxed face before joining him and closing his eyes as well. This silence feels right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you liked this chapter!! and i just want to add that Jean isn't ace in this fic, though that'll be addressed later on!


	5. Everything's fine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe Marco thinks too much. Maybe Jean is hiding something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is this too slow? i feel like it might be slow. and is there enough dialogue?

Jean and Marco didn’t talk on the way back, nor did they when they got back to the dorms. Jean looked too tired to say anything more, so Marco let him just collapse in his bed. The others hanging out in the common room let him do so as well, but Marco wasn’t as fortunate.

“Freckles!” Ymir yelled out to him, which made Marco seriously wonder why the boys common room seemed to be the one all the genders hung out in. Marco’s thoughts were still pretty jean-centric, so he wasn’t exactly up to talking right now. He really needed to sort out his feelings, but he wasn’t one to refuse conversation, so he put on his best smile.

“Yeah?” she pouts and puts her hands on her hips, possibly the sassiest position ever. 

“Where’d you guys disappear to?” Marco opens his mouth then suddenly remembers that he can’t tell her where they actually went. Luckily for him years of pretending to be straight left his lying abilities a bit above average. Without skipping one more beat he just answers with a blanket statement

“He gave me a tour around the campus; it was more interesting than orientation.” It was a simple enough lie so Ymir didn’t question it. Marco notes that he’ll have to tell Jean that’s what he covered with in case anyone, well, if Ymir, asks him later. 

“That Jean likes to act like he’s hot shit, but he’s really not. Sooner or later you’ll piss him off and he’ll treat you like the rest of us.” Ymir ruffles his hair “Best stay away from him.” She then turns and walks towards the already full couch. 

Marco just blinks in surprise, what the fuck was that? Was she trying to look out for him or did she really want to bad mouth Jean that much? Was Jean really treating him different? He tries to rationalize what she said to him. He supposes that they must not get on well together. Jean had made him promise especially not to tell Ymir about the forest nook, he wonders why that is. But the thing that really piqued his interest was that she said Jean wasn’t al he’s cracked up to be, was he a dork? A jerk? A sexist? 

He managed to get to his room relatively quickly, he was only stopped two or three times to exchange greetings and idle small talk. Once he closed the door behind him he breathed a relieved sigh. He’s only been here for a little bit and the people are already so intense. Asking for weed, throwing shade, breaking down into fits of self-loathing; he wondered if everyone here was like that. 

Marco picks at the dirt under his nails and lies on his bed. He tells himself that all the intensity here was normal, he grew up in a small town with the same people; nothing was novel or came as a surprise. But here, in a totally new environment, everything was different. Every word that came out of every person’s mouth was a fact he didn’t know before. Every scowl or tear became something alien, something that he hasn’t earned through years of friendship and trust.

He looked up at the ugly ceiling and immediately felt homesick. Back in his little town secrets spread faster than light. It was important to trust the person you were talking to, because everyone knew you, and everyone would know your shame otherwise. But in a place this big, what does it matter if everyone knows? You’re just one person in a sea of information. Here you don’t have a connection to everybody; here there are people who won’t think you’re important. There are people who will never know your name and never care to ask what it is.

That last thought scared Marco the most. He couldn’t imagine living a life where he didn’t even show up on people’s radars. Here he truly is another face in the crowd, here he’s more of a background character than anything. 

And what about his music. Back home he was easily the best violist, hell, the best musician. But the school is basically a petri dish of talent. His viola is what makes him special, what if here even music can’t distinguish him? He feels physically sick, his stomach twisting and turning. He might puke. 

He needs to calm down.

He forces himself to sit up and to take his viola out. Without doing any tuning or warm ups he jumps right into Beethoven, something that never fails to lift his spirits.

He and Sasha first met in second grade when they were paired together on a biography project. They were assigned Beethoven, which much to their surprise, they both found interesting. Since then they’ve been inseparable, practically joined at the hip their parents would say. They never forgot that a stupid second grade project had brought them together, and thus Beethoven became their first, and best, inside joke. Whenever Marco played his music it reminded him of his best friend, and of home. 

He played for what seemed for hours, but ended up only being ninety minutes. Once he starts playing it’s hard for him to stop, he pours over his sheet music, playing straight through sonatas, or just perfecting a single phrase of a gavotte. The only thing on his mind when he plays is music: the tone, the rhythm, counting, all of it. He plays scales in as many octaves as he can manage. He plays entire songs on a single string. He even forgoes the bow at one point, and just plucks songs that were never meant to be plucked. And afterwards, he feels so much better. 

He knows now that whatever comes later, or tomorrow, or even next week, he’ll be fine. 

A little later he leaves his room to see if Jean had left his. Sadly he didn’t see Jean anywhere in the common room. But he did see the other boys, he should make as many friends as he can here. 

“Hey.” He says as he nears Connie and Eren. Both the boys look up and greet him with boyish smiles. They sit around a Disney themed ‘Sorry!’ board, Connie pats the floor next to him.

“Hey Marco, we were just starting, play with us!” he happily joins the two and he helps them set up. When choosing their pieces he chooses the villains and Eren laughs. Feeling self-conscious Marco asks whats up.

“Nothing, it’s just Jean always chooses that team, so when we play with him you two’ll have to fight over them.” Marco blushes a bit, feeling just a bit happy that he chose the same pieces that Jean would’ve. 

They start playing the game and it doesn’t take long for them to start complaining about how classes start the next day. Marco joins in the moaning and groaning even though he wasn’t that bothered by classes starting, that’s what a school is after all. They compare schedules and find out what classes they have together. He’s got first period gym and sixth period social studies with Eren, and third period math and eight period science with Connie. He finds out that Connie is doubling up on math, he modestly explains that he’s actually sort of good at math. This was quickly followed up with Eren saying that he was absolute shit at everything else. 

They talk about school for a while, and Marco always keeps one eye on Jean’s door to check that it was still closed. Somehow what Ymir said about him only made Marco that much more interested in the boy. Especially with what happened earlier he feels almost a need to know about him. He wonders what classes he has with Jean. 

They play the game for a little longer, no one wins because no one is quite sure how to win the game anyway. After that they settle down in front of the television and watch whatever talent show was on that night. And it was fun.

Everyone laughed together and shared stories about the summer. Everyone groaned together and lamented the work they would have to do tomorrow. Marco never really hung out with large groups back home so it was a nice change of pace, he enjoyed hearing everyone’s opinions. Though it didn’t really feel complete since Jean wasn’t there. 

Before Marco went to bed he stood outside of Jean’s door for a moment, trying to decide if he should knock or not. He really wanted to make sure that Jean was okay before he went to sleep, but he decided not to. Jean had been locked in there all day, he probably wants to be alone. Marco leaves the door without knocking, but decides that tomorrow he’ll definitely make sure that he’s alright. 

 

The next morning he’s woken by a loud knocking on his door. He shuffles with the rest of them into the crowded bathroom. After that he’s off to the cafeteria. He sits down with Mikasa and Eren, since he apparently has his first class with them. They didn’t talk, all of their energy was put into scarfing down their breakfast.

Soon Jean slid into the seat next to Marco, he didn’t even mumble a hello, but he seemed a lot better than yesterday. After they finish their food there’s still ten minutes before class. Marco remembers that Jean had paid for his meal the other day so he pulls out his wallet. Jean sees him do this and raises an eyebrow.

“The food yesterday, you paid for me. How much was it?” Jean takes Marco’s fumbling hands, which causes his breath to violently hitch, and forces them to close the wallet. He then seems to realize how physical he was being and quickly took them back, crossing his arms. 

“It’s no big deal, you don’t have to pay me back.” Marco nods and blushes, looking away. He knows that something like this probably doesn’t mean a lot to him, but back in his town free food is pretty much a date. Eren leans against the table.

“Oh, you’re paying for him? When’s the wedding?” he teases Jean, and his comment causes Marco to heat up even more. But he tries to hide that fact by awkwardly laughing. Before Jean has a chance to yell at Eren he follows up by addressing Marco, “Really though, Jean’s family is loaded. Money means nothing to him.”

“Eren.” Mikasa says like a mother scolding a child. Eren turns to her and asks what’s up, and she tells him not to speak like that. Which Eren doesn’t understand at all. Marco turns to Jean, expecting him to look royally pissed, but he doesn’t. Instead he stares at Mikasa with a look of adoration, not quite smiling, but definitely smitten. 

Marco feels his own heart break. What he would give to have someone look at him like that. Someone who would look at you and want to look at you more. A person that decides that you’re worth fawning over. As Marco thinks about it more these feelings feel a different then they usually do. Usually they’re more vague, he just wants someone, anyone really, to love him. But now he’s thinking specifically about Jean, and he finds himself wanting all of these things…from Jean. 

Shit.

He tries to shake the feeling off. He doesn’t need that right now, he just needs friends. He hadn’t noticed but they had gone back to regular conversation. Turns out Jean had gym first as well. He fully compares his schedule with Jean and finds out that he has English and social studies with him as well. They spend the next five minutes talking about their favorite classes. His of course, is orchestra. Turns out Mikasa plays violin, but she didn’t seem especially excited about it. But then again, she didn’t really seem terribly excited about anything.

When they head off to their first class Marco slows his pace down so he could talk to Jean alone. 

“Are you alright Jean?” he asks looking straight ahead. He’s already lost sight of Eren and Mikasa.

“I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be fine?” he answers in a quick and clipped voice. Marco gives him a sidelong glance and he frowns angrily, “Yes, I’m fine. An anyway, about yesterday don’t-“

He cuts him off, “I’m not going to tell anyone anything. Didn’t you say you trusted me?” he was quiet, and without thinking he added, “You’ve got to keep up your hot shot act anyway, right?” with one look to Jean’s face he instantly wants to take that back. He looks hurt.

“What do you mean?” holy shit. He genuinely looks hurt. Marco is not ready to deal with this. His eyes dart all over Jean’s face, wanting desperately to wipe that expression away.

“Omigod Jean I’m sorry someone said something about you yesterday and it’s early and it slipped out and I shouldn’t be making excuses and I’m not but I really am sorry but I am really curious to know more about you and fuck I need to stop talking.” He covers his mouth with his hand and looks at Jean with a face full of worry. 

Jean shakes his head and looks to the ground. When he lifts it again he has a tired smile

“Alright. It’s just…I don’t want to fuck up this relationship or friendship or whatever like I fuck up everything else…” he runs his hands through his hair.

“You’re not fucking anything up.” 

Gym that day wasn’t very interesting. Probably because it was the first day. They did trust exercises, which Jean laugh a bit at. Eren was very vocal with complaining to Levi, who looked shorter than he did before surrounded by all of his students. 

Most of the classes were like that. The obligatory first day of greetings and ice breakers. His school had forgone those by the seventh grade, since by then everyone knew everyone. But in a big school it must be different. 

They got the most done in last period orchestra. They sight read some specially arranged pop songs for a ‘welcome back’ treat. Ms. Ral seemed especially nice, she wore a floral sundress and complimented Marco on his playing. They would have seating exams next week.

The first week of school passed just like that. The work load was light and the classes were interesting. He and Jean quickly became ‘good’ friends. Though they didn’t share any other heartfelt or hurtful moments. Jean felt distant, even though he was right there. Like he was trying especially hard to seem fine. Marco didn’t prod or pry at him. Maybe the first couple of days they met were something special, something that wasn’t supposed to happen. Their relationship would probably just continue like this.

At least that’s what he thought until they went to their first party of the year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again, I hope you liked it!!

**Author's Note:**

> wow! that was fun
> 
> I'll probably have another chapter up by the end of this week, and after that I'll update once a week or so (?) 
> 
> thanks so much for reading! <3


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